


Oh, brother

by soundoftragedy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Asylum, Brothers, Comfort, Episode: s01e10 Asylum, Gen, Hurt, Sam/Dean - Freeform, Season 1, Supernatural - Freeform, Torture, spn 1x10, spn S1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-02-18 15:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundoftragedy/pseuds/soundoftragedy
Summary: Things went south in the Roosevelt Asylum. Sam managed to overpower Dean and tie him up to a chair. With unimaginable rage running through his system will he be able to stop before it's too late? Will Dean get out of this alive? What will this do to their relationship?Hurt!tortured!Dean Angry!sadistic!guilty!worried!Sam S1 Asylum 1x10, lots of hurt. Maybe John in later chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

I was just rewatching Asylum and saw a chair in Ellicotts office. Let's just say, I got some ideas. I'm not sure if I'll regret posting this, probably not, because jfc.  
So, here you go x

* * *

 

Chapter 1

* * *

Dean was still a little dazed from flying throughout the door. His chest screamed in pain.

This wasn't how he planned to spend his night.

Apparently, getting hit with rock salt wasn't fun at all.

"Sam" he managed to wheeze out, his chest still refusing to let him to draw in deep breaths. "We gotta burn Ellicott's bones."

"Is that an order?" Dean heard somewhere from above. He turned his head and noticed a gun lying next to him, must have dropped it after his flying lesson, then reached for it, but Sam stepped on his hand. Painfully. He whimpered. "I'm getting sick of you ordering me around, Dean." he kicked the gun out of his reach and stepped away from his hand.

"What are you talking about?" the older hunter asked, finally turning his gaze to Sam, who looked crazed, to say at least.

Not good.

" _You_ , telling  _me_  what to do, all the time. I'm sick of it. And you, following dad's orders, like a good little soldier. No questions asked. As if you don't have enough brain to function on your own.  _Pathetic_." he spitted out like a venom and Dean flinched.  _Ouch_. Well, that hurt.

"I mean, why are we even here? Huh? We are no closer to finding that than six months ago. We're working a job, because he told us to. Although, we should be looking for  _him_." Sam walked around him, like a predator, walking around its victim, anger blazing in his eyes.

"This isn't you talking, man."

"No?" Sam laughed. "Oh, it's the real me, alright. Except this time I'm telling the truth and not putting up with your shit. See, i have a mind of my own. I'm not a worthless piece of shit like you." he raised a gun to Dean's chest.

"Good to know." he smirked back, trying not to think how words burned. When he saw his brother raising a shotgun again, he was stunned for a moment. "You hate me that much?" the older Winchester managed to whisper. "You wanna kill your own brother? Then here, I'll make it easier for ya".

Dean pulled out his 45 and handed it to his fuming sibling. Sam didn't even hesitate before aiming it at his chest and then pulling the trigger. Then again, and again, and again. He looked genuinely surprised and frustrated when it didn't work.

Dean took a chance and winged at him, knocking the younger Winchester off the balance. "I ain't giving you a loaded gun, dude." he aimed to hit his brother again, but Sam caught his arm before it reached his face and twisted it before almost punching his lights out. Dean found himself lying on the dirty floor again, completely dazed.

Then he felt himself being dragged somewhere. What the hell?

"Fucking piece of shit" he heard Sam mumble under his breath. He grabbed Dean by his still bloody shirt and threw him in the chair doctor used to treat his patients on. He was going to show his brother his place once and for all.

The older brother opened his eyes just to see Sam coming to stand by him. He have never seen his brother looking so angry before. It was kinda scary.

Well, not 'kind of', it was scary, knowing what he was actually capable of underneath all those layers of 'normal'.

Suddenly Sam grabbed his right arm, pinning it down.

 _What the hell is happening?_  Dean wondered and struggled, but his brother's grip got almost bone-crushing. Only then he noticed other things, such as that he was in the chair and his brother was putting his hand into the restrains and tightening it so he couldn't move.

Couldn't  _get out_.

His eyes went wide with realization.

"Sam? Stop it!" he shouted, panic surging through him, but Sam didn't listen. "You gotta fight this, man, you gotta burn Ellicott's bones, they are right behind you!" he shouted desperately, reaching out with his other hand to stop his brother, but he just decked him, pushing his hand out of the way.

"For once in your life, Dean, just shut the fuck up"

He walked away and the older Winchester stared with wide eyes. If Sam tied him up, he was as good as dead, that was for sure. None of the victims survived the attacks. And none of them had the skills Sam possessed.

He tried to free his other hand, but no avail.

Sam wasn't messing around.

So when his brother walked over and reached out for his other hand, he tried to punch him, but his sibling just gripped his arm in a steel grip that might have literally crushed his bones if he really wanted to and squeezed a little tighter, and pushed it down where the restrains were.

"No!" the older hunter shouted and tried to kick Sam at the same time while trying to yank his hand out. He was almost free when his brother hit him in the face. Hard.

The force of the blow forced his head the other way and for a brief moment everything went black.

* * *

 

Sam smiled when his brother went limp in the chair, sick satisfaction washing over him. It felt good hitting him. Finally, he will get what he deserves.

He tightened the restrains on his left wrist and moved to do the same to his legs. They didn't need anything major, just to stop them from kicking him. Again.

Then he stepped back, looking at his brother, tied to a chair, completely helpless and at his mercy.

At first he wanted just to kill him. But when the gun didn't end his pathetic life, he got other ideas.

Who didn't love a little torture?

* * *

hehehehe, that's it, for now.  
tell me what you think

reviews are more than welcome x


	2. I love you, Sammy

I'm kinda wondering whether or not to change it from past tense to a present tense, because it seems nicer somehow? What do you think?

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

Dean wasn't completely out of, but he wasn't with it either.

He vaguely felt Sam tighten the belt on his left arm and then chuckle. _Chuckle_. The bastard was enjoying this.

He partly opened his eyes and saw him working on a belt around his legs as well.

Well, _fuck_.

With his hands tied the way they were and his legs out of commission, there was no way he was getting out of this chair by himself. So what is he going to do?

The older Winchester didn't even noticed when he slipped under again, but he came to his senses when he felt someone roughly patting his cheek.

He grunted, not wanting to wake up, but then that someone slapped him.

Dean opened his eyes and saw Sam peering at him with a predatory grin on his face.

 _Shit_.

This wasn't a dream.

"Wakey wakey, Dean. Wouldn't want you to miss all the fun."

Dean was still dazed, but looked around once more and felt dread wash over him.

He was genuinely screwed. No way out of this. He pulled at his arms, but they barely moved.

"Kinky, Sam" he smirked. "Never knew you were into this"

Apparently, it was a wrong thing to say, because his brother was at his face in an instant

"Stop. I'm done with your lame ass jokes, I never want to hear them ever again!" he shouted and Dean wondered, maybe he should really stop doing it, because Sam was clearly out of control.

But hey, if he ends up killing him, then he's allowed to speak for himself one more time.

"You know, no one is forcing you to stay with me, if you're so done with all of it." he replied.

"Yeah? You think I _want_ to be with you?" he spitted at Dean, meaning for it to hurt. "I came with you because i thought you will have answers of how to find dad. And you don't. You just keep dragging me down and down, keep dragging me to these fucking cases and I can't stand it. If I knew you had no answers I would have stayed in Stanford."

"Yeah, well, like i said. No one is forcing you to stay." the older hunter repeated once again, eyeing his brother. He was clearly up to no good. And he was pretty sure it was about to get ugly.

"Oh, I'm not planning on staying." the younger Winchester turned away from Dean and started picking something from the table. Clearly, the doctor had left some of his instruments there, after all, it was his secret-torture-room-office. "I was never planning on staying. I thought, once we find our father and get the answers…" he turned to face him again, holding a scalped in his hand, a small smile dancing on his lips. "I was going to dump your sorry ass and go back to college. Like i did the first time." Sam moved closer. "But now my mind is much clearer and to think further, you might come back and screw it all for me one more time. So, I will get rid of you first."

"How about you get rid of the Ellicott first, huh?" Dean tried again, but Sam, without any warning, plunged the scalpel into his leg. Dean shouted in pain, only to see Sam's satisfied grin when he yanked it out.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" he smiled again and dragged the blade through Dean's skin, making him shiver. He made a few small, but deep cuts, making his brother hiss. "Don't worry, I will get rid of him after I'm done with you." the younger sibling stood up.

The older man bit his lip. His chest was burning and now his leg was on fire too, not to mention a pounding headache. At first he thought he might break Sam out of this haze he was in, but it was becoming clear that whatever he will say will only make him angrier.

"You're gonna regret this later" he whispered.

"I don't think I will" the younger brother turned to face him again. "See, even before this i was getting sick of your crap. So, a life without you seems like a fairy tale to me. I can't wait to be by myself, without your constant whining and music and lame jokes and, you know, _you_."

"You really hate me that much?" Dean couldn't help but ask, feeling a weird tingling in his chest. Even with the doctor's magic anger juice running through Sam, these thoughts must have been there before.

"You know, I actually do." the younger Winchester came closer again, this time with his own knife in his hand. "Ever since I was a kid you were better than me in our father's eyes. His perfect little soldier, following his every order. He was never proud of me." he almost whispered and then hit Dean in the arm he stepped on earlier, making him whimper.

"That's where you're wrong, kiddo. He was always proud of you. I swear to god, every single person we met knows that you went to Stanford." the elder hunter said, the idea that he isn't getting out of this chair slowly settling into his bones. He tried to move his arms, but the grip was just too tight. Even after all these years away from hunting life, his brother never lost his skills. And that wasn't exactly working in his favor right now.

Sam just laughed, putting his blade to Dean's neck, making a small, but painful cut, then trailing his eyes over the blood that immediately poured down.

"Yeah? Well, he can always tell me that when I find him." Sam put the blade down to Dean's arm and cut again, deep, blood immediately seeping throughout the layers of clothing. "I'll make sure he knows that you still protect him, that he trained you well." without a warning he plunged the knife into the older man's shoulder, smiling when Dean screamed in pain, trying to get away, but the restrains holding him in place. The agony that ripped through him was almost too much to bare. He wished for the dark to take over him, take the pain away, but he knew it won't happen. Not yet anyway. Not until his half crazed brother had his fun and his body gives out from exhaustion, pain and blood loss.

Yep, he's going to die in this evil dentist looking chair.

Sam pulled it out, eventually, listening to his brother's sharp intakes of air, that sick satisfaction washing over him again. Who knew that plunging a knife into your brother's shoulder can be so satisfying?

"You…" Dean panted. "Fu- fuck you" he wheezed out, eventually. Talking wasn't an easy task when every intake of breath was a fight. He was just thankful that Sam didn't twisted it, because that would be just beyond what he was feeling right now.

"What, Dean, not gonna fight back? Oh, right. You _can't._ " the younger brother laughed darkly. "I know your body's not gonna last long with that bleeding and probably shock, so, tell me. How come you became such a pathetic excuse of a hunter?" he smirked, clearly meaning his words to hurt. "Huh? You used to be all macho, marching in, guns blazing and all, but now? You just sit back and wait for someone else to take the action, probably too scared to do anything or need your daddy to give you a permission to move or even breathe. No wonder he dumped your sorry ass. You were a liability on hunts. So, how did you come to being this poor excuse of a being?"

 _Fuck it,_ Dean decided. Sam's words hurt, the bitch gonna get it right back at him. It's probably gonna cost him another shoulder, but he's as good as dead anyway. He just couldn't see a way to break his brother out of this, which means, he can say whatever the hell he wants, since it won't change a thing.

"I wouldn't be, but see, I keep having to look over my shoulder at you, instead of looking out for monsters. God knows what you might be getting into when I'm not looking."

"I can take care of myself, I don't _need_ you" Sam snarled. "I _never_ needed _you_."

"Good to know. Great job, by the way, seeing as a demon managed to get into your apartment an-"

Dean never managed to finish that sentence because Sam straight out elbowed him to the ribs and he heard his bones just _snap_.

 _Oh crap_ , he thought before the pain flooded him, leaving him gasping for air and his vision with dark spots dancing in it. Sam broke his ribs. "You son of a bit-" he never had a pleasure to say that either, because Sam hit him again, this time to the stomach.

"That's my mom you're talking about you worthless piece of shit." the younger Winchester hissed at him, feeling ten times angrier than before.

It didn't even register when Sam sliced his other arm, because of the pain in his side and stomach.

Gosh.

He could barely draw a breath in, it was pure agony.

"No fucking wonder dad left you, no one can deal with this without blowing his, or better, _your_ brains out. And it's not like you were a joy to be around, and not very useful either, quite the opposite So, you can understand that I'm doing a world a favor here, getting rid of you. You coulda thought of that sooner, blow your brains out, slit your wrists. Not that hard, Dean." Sam yanked his sleeves further up, dragging the blade across his wrist. Only then he noticed the scars there. "So, you _have_ tried to off yourself. I wondered from time to time, seeing how fucking moody you were sometimes. Failed at that too, huh?" he chuckled. "Shame"

Dean tried not to listen to this evil Sam, but the words were hitting him like bullets. And pain, oh god, it was almost unbearable. He willed the darkness to swallow him, but it was merciless and never did take him. He was sure by now that something was wrong internally, he just could feel the wrongness there. He had enough injuries to know the difference. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to last long. With the blood he was loosing and his crazy brother… there was no way he was walking out of that door. Or any door, as a matter of fact.

He needed to make his point before it was too late.

"Sammy-" he wheezed out, noticing how it was getting harder to breathe, and not because of the pain. "When you get out of this state Ellicott put you in, I want you to know that none of this is your fault."

Sam put his own hands on Dean's and leaned in, his face mere inches from his brothers.

"Is this is your goodbye speech? Giving up already? We barely had any fun! Gosh, you're more pathetic than I thought." he pulled away when Dean coughed. "Although, who am I kidding? You were never good at anything."

Dean coughed again, feeling blood swelling up in his mouth.

Well, crap.

Internal bleeding, he wasn't wrong.

He was as good as dead.

"Yeah, well, just making a point." Dean closed his eyes momentarily and lowered his head, trying to breathe through it. Internal bleeding or not, coughing with messed up chest and broken ribs was a bitch. Almost immediately, there were fingers grabbing his face and forcing him to face Sam. The older brother opened his eyes and for a moment he thought he saw his brother again, but the anger was back once he knew Dean was still conscious.

And then it clicked.

If Sam thought he was out, going into the bright white light or whatever, maybe it will break the spell and he'll be able to do what needs to be done.

"Your point sucks" Sam said back to him, but his voice held an uncertainty in it. That's all Dean needed. It's not like he'll be faking it all, he was actually in a pretty bad shape. He'll just… exaggerate things a little bit.

Dean coughed again, this time letting the blood show up on his lips and drip down his chin. It's not like he could stop it, but he needed to make himself look worse than he was for this to work.

"Well, if it means anything, I wanted for you to have a better life and I still hope you can have it after this."

"I will, once you're out" Sam smiled and leaned in once again, pressing his hand into the older hunter's leg wound, making Dean whimper in pain.

A cough erupted from Dean's throat, more blood coming out, he bit his lips when more pain came from his side. He looked at Sam one more time and whispered "Love you", before letting his eyes slowly slid close and his head loll to the side, making himself go limp, despite the pain coursing through his body.

Almost immediately he felt Sam stand up and walk towards him. The older Winchester held his breath went he felt his brothers hands brush - almost gently- over his cheek. He checked his breathing, then grabbed his face, shaking slightly, but Dean didn't give any indicator he was still there. Then he heard a loud gasp and Sam hit the ground, letting out a blood curdling scream.

"Fuck!" he heard him scream, then a clear attempts to get up. "Shit, crap, _oh god_ , Dean?" he felt Sam stand over him.

His little half-affair worked.

"Bones, fuck, I must torch that fucking piece of garbage" the younger brother mumbled to himself and he heard his brother spilling salt and putting the bones on fire. In instant, Sam was back to his side.

"Dean? _Please_ , say _something_ , c'mon, no, _no,_ **no**." he mumbled desperately, on a verge of crying, checking Dean's pulse, which, thank god, was still there.

The older Winchester managed to open his eyes after the tenth time of trying or so, they felt as if they weighed a ton. The older sibling knew that he was fading and fast. No need to pretend now.

"Dean, oh god, thank god you're alive, i'm so _so_ sorry, i'll get you help, just hold on, please, hold on" he kept muttering, trying to get Dean out of the restrains with his shaking hands.

The problem was, the eldest son felt himself slipping away, into the darkness. What his brother did might not seem much, he could survive that shoulder wound any day, those cuts and bruises, the concussion or broken bones, but the internal damage? He was defenseless against that. No 'keep the pressure till it stops bleeding', no 'we'll just stitch it up'. This was serious and he was already a mess. It will be a miracle if he gets through this. Thank god his little not-really-an-affair worked. That might have bought him a little time, and in case he doesn't make it, he'll tell his brother what he really feels. It's not like his younger sibling doesn't know, but he just can't lose the opportunity in case this is the last time he sees his brother, and it's not like he can say more than those four words, because his mouth just isn't working right anymore.

"I love you, Sammy" Dean whispers to him, like the biggest secret in the whole universe that nobody knows, and then sees Sam's eyes go wide with the realization.

"No, _no_ , you're not saying goodbye, Dean, not now, _not ever_. You _must_ hold on!" Sam shouts through tears. "I love you too, you fucking jerk, don't you dare to die on me."

Dean smiles one more time, seeing his brother back to himself, hearing his answer and knowing that he can go in peace now.

He doesn't know if he'll come out of this alive or not, but just as long as Sammy is okay and knows that he's loved, he's okay with it.

And then Dean lets go.

* * *

hehehehe thanks for reading x

the questions is, whether or not should i kill our precious Dean?  
Leave a review! xx


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